


We'll Never be Worlds Apart

by Tousled_Sky



Category: Homestuck, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Crossover, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Magnetic Storms, Mirror Universe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Polyamory, Transporter Malfunction, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tousled_Sky/pseuds/Tousled_Sky
Summary: Everyone knows you don't beam up during magnetic storms.





	We'll Never be Worlds Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Homestuck and Star Trek. Two stories of the stars. A perfect crossover mix.  
> It's been a while since I've done a multichapter fic, so I'm really excited for this one! I hope you guys like it~  
> Here we go ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

During Spock’s time in space, many rules had made themselves known.

Oh, of course there were the by-the-book rules, the Starfleet regulations that he had spent late nights as a cadet memorizing. But Spock wasn’t referring to those – the ones he was thinking of were the rules that had been created while on the _Enterprise_ , usually discovered through chance. Rules like “Don’t feed a tribble too much”, or “Don’t bring strange rocks from planets up onto the _Enterprise,_ ” or “Don’t beam up during magnetic storms”.

Though the last example was more likely to be phrased as “Don’t beam up during magnetic storms, for the love of _god_ don’t do it.” It was a very strict rule, because doing so in the past had led to some…exceedingly unpleasant circumstances. Such as a few years prior, when a screaming, shouting away party had been dragged into the brig as they hollered threats (well, more like promises) of violence and murder.

But despite all that, Scotty was shouting through Spock’s earpiece, saying, “ _I’ve got a lock on ya laddie, we’ll have ya up in a minute here”_ even as the sky above Spock and Chekov flashed with bright pulses of neon light that would ramp up the RPM’s of any compass. And, strangest of all, Spock found this decision logical.

Because even if it wasn’t...optimal, the raging monster closing in on him and Chekov made getting off the planet a necessity. And a time sensitive one at that.

Desperate times, as the humans say.

\---

It was a most fascinating feeling.

The transporter didn’t usually cause much of a feeling – which Spock was grateful for, he hardly thought that the sensation having your atoms transported through space and then re-assembled at the other side would be a pleasant one. However, this time there _was_ a sensation. Not while he was traveling, but when he started to re-materialize.

Usually re-materializing went off with just a bit of white clouding his vision for a second or two, but this time – the white didn’t fade. Instead, it persisted, and with it crept in the strangest feeling – a dark heaviness in each cell, even as they swirled about him disintegrated into separate atoms. A heat under his skin, but his skin wasn’t there, the heat was only in his mind –

And then suddenly a feeling almost like falling, as he felt himself pulled forcibly to another place – almost like water through a pipe, draining away swiftly.

He stumbled as all of a sudden he came back to himself, became whole once more. He could hear Chekov gasp next to him, understandably shaken. Spock was, too, but Vulcans did not _gasp_ in surprise, thank you greatly.

By that logic, the sound that came out of his throat when he looked over to see Chekov – looking quite not like himself – was most certainly not a gasp.

Though, to be truthful, it may as well have been.

\---

As hazardous as the universe switch a few years ago had been, it was ultimately resolved. Jim and the rest re-appeared a dozen or so hours later, a bit rough around the edges from several fights but otherwise unharmed, and eager to tell their tale.

And tell it they did.

Spock must have heard that story scores of times by now – it was one of the crew’s favorites to hear, and Jim certainly never shied away from recounting it, with an exuberant grin and wild hand motions to accompany the different scenes of the story.

Having heard the story so many times, one might think Spock would be prepared, should he ever find himself in the same situation. However, Spock was left at a loss here.

Because nowhere in the multiple recounts of his adventure had Jim ever mentioned that the people had grey skin.

It was more than likely, he surmised, that they were not in the same universe Jim had visited. But clearly, they were not in their own either.

How unsettling.

\---

“Mr. Spock and Chekov! How was the away mission?” Jim asked, voice as sunny as ever, his words a bit accented in a strange way.  Spock was still looking at Chekov, who seemed completely at a loss for words, face almost horrified as he stared back at Spock with wide golden eyes, irises surrounded by a bright shade of yellow in place of the typical white human sclera.

But then again, not much about the Ensign was human anymore – his skin was a light grey, with short fangs showing in place of the usual dull human canines. His hair was now black, which of course was the hair color most humans had, but was nonetheless strange to see on the usually-blond young commander. His ears were no longer rounded at the tips, either – now they were pointed, which was _quite_ startling for Spock – that feature was something he’d only ever seen on Vulcans.

Surprisingly, though, the ears were not the most striking change on Chekov. Neither were the eyes, or even the skin.

On his head were four orange horns, grouped neatly on either side in groups of two.

Spock was snapped out of his examination of the young ensign by Jim’s voice, concern lacing his words as he asked, “Spock? Pavel? Are you guys okay?” His tone was tentative and concerned, and when Spock turned to face the captain, his face bore the same emotions.

Though now grey as well.

For a moment, Spock considered the straightforward solution to this dilemma. To just state, “Captain, I’m afraid that we’re not of your universe. There was a transporter malfunction, and we’ve been warped into a different universe than our original one. If you could help us back to our universe, we would be much obliged.”

However, logically, there were several problems with that. Firstly, he had no idea how such a statement would be taken by these creatures. Jim had made it very clear that the members of the alternate universe that he had visited were not the friendliest. If he revealed that he and Chekov were intruders, there’s no saying that this universe’s _Enterprise_ crew would respond favorably.

Besides, he knew from Jim’s recounts of his own adventure that they were dealing with a short time limit here. They only had a few day – a week at most – before their window closed, so to speak. After that, they would no longer be able to return to their original universe. And he didn’t want to take a risk by saying something outlandish that might prompt him to be confined in medbay, to be examined for head or concussions or whatever strain of space sickness they thought he may have contracted. No, he needed free reign of the ship if he was going to figure out how to get home.

So it was probably best to keep their identity under wraps for the moment.

“…We are uninjured, Captain.” Spock replied after a few moments of internal deliberation. He could feel his tongue and lips brush against his own new fangs as he spoke – a most peculiar feeling. “Navigator Chekov and I are simply a bit startled from the…conditions preceding our beam-up.”

Jim’s face relaxed, splitting into a grin. “Yeah, that was a nasty-looking monster chasing you two! We were a little worried about beaming you up in during a magnetic storm, but if we didn’t, you two would probably be that things lunch right now.”

“Tactful as always, Captain.” Spock replied, relieved that his voice sounded level as always and not quite as frazzled as he felt. However, his away party partner didn’t have the same level of control over his composure – Chekov giggled wildly at Spock’s response, his tone high and bordering on hysterical.

Apparently, he was not processing the situation well.

Jim frowned in concern, as Spock struggled to find an explanation for the ensign but came up empty. McCoy, who was standing at Jim’s side, raised an eyebrow at the display. He strode up to the platform and pulled a tricorder from his belt, scanning the young man before examining the results on the screen.

“No significant injuries, but his energy levels are low – he’s just overexerted himself.” Bones announced. “Sulu, can you help him back to his room?” he asked, turning to scan Spock. Sulu came over, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the interaction between the Ensign and Lieutenant as the tricorder swept his body. As expected, Sulu’s face was concerned, and he placed a careful arm out to steady the young Russian. But beneath the concern, there was something else – a tenderness in soft brown eyes. And even as Hikaru used one hand to support Chekov, he used his other to brush his fingers down the Russian’s back in a feather-light touch; the gesture gentle and intimate.

Most curious.

“Well, you’re in about as many pieces as I remember.” McCoy noted dryly, tucking the tricorder back into his pocket. “Welcome back onboard,” he said, voice a bit too snide for Spock’s liking as he clapped the taller man on the back _hard._ Spock actually stumbled forward a bit from the force of the blow, turning to glare at the doctor. McCoy clearly knew what he had done – he was smirking, for god’s sake, staring right at Spock with a “shit-eating grin”, as Jim liked to call it.

“What an astute, but unnecessary, observation.” Spock replied, his own voice contemptuous. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me when we first beamed up, but I gave Jim my word that both Chekov and I were unharmed.”

As of late, Spock and the doctor had been getting along better, and so he usually wasn’t so contentious with the man. But the Bones of this universe had gotten under his skin, bringing out his impassive, but snarky, insults.

Bones grinned at Spock’s words, expression strange – mocking and derisive, but with an undercurrent of something almost playful, in a sharp, aggressive way. It made Spock uneasy, even if he kept his face deadpan.

“Jim might believe you, but me? Your word doesn’t mean much to me, Spock.”

And oh, that stung. Spock couldn’t stifle a flinch, nor a momentary flash of hurt across his features. He recovered his stoic face quickly, but the distress had still been there. That wasn’t typical for Spock; he usually had better control over display of his emotions.

However, in all fairness, he had just been: 1) Almost eaten by some mammoth monster on a jungle planet, 2) Transported into an unfamiliar alternate universe, and 3) Insulted by the doctor who he thought was finally becoming his friend (in a different universe, granted, but it stung nonetheless).

He supposed that was sufficient reason for a momentary lapse in control.

“Bones, that’s enough.” Jim stepped in, voice a gentle but stern reprimand to his doctor and friend. Bones wasn’t looking at Jim, though – he was staring at Spock with a strange mix of annoyance and concern as Jim continued. “You two can argue all you want later, but cut Spock a little slack right now – he almost just got eaten. Chekov’s shaken up and Spock is too.”

Spock was grateful for the Captain interruption, but embarrassed nonetheless. He tried to interject with, “I’m fine, Captain-“, but Jim cut him off with a disapproving look. Spock couldn’t fault him – the Vulcan’s voice was shaky even to his own ears.

“Don’t give me that, Spock. I’m taking you to our quarters and you’re sleeping this off. Captain’s orders.” Jim said sternly, taking Spock by the wrist and pulling him along. Spock shivered as Jim’s thumb brushed against the soft inside of his wrist – a very pleasant sensation. It reminded him of Chekov and Sulu; the Lieutenant’s soft touches on the Ensign and –

Wait.

Had Jim said “ _our_ quarters”?

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr!  
> tousledsky.tumblr.com


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